


Pueri Solivagi

by Dira Sudis (dsudis)



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M, Yuletide 2003
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-08
Updated: 2010-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 11:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/pseuds/Dira%20Sudis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>That was the way Hellton and everyplace like it was designed, no privacy.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pueri Solivagi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gabby Hope](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Gabby+Hope).



> Thanks to Lynnmonster and Iulia Mentis for beta!
> 
> This story was written for Yuletide 2003 and first appeared December 25, 2003.

Meeks turned away first, and Pitts went after him with a muttered word or two that Charlie barely heard, though he nodded agreement. The sound of footsteps crunching across snow faded quickly, leaving just him and Knox, standing there watching Todd. He'd gone straight out to the end of the dock and Charlie had half-expected him to jump, but he'd only paced back and forth awhile.

Now he'd settled down into a tiny blue lump perched in a field of white. The lake never froze solid, he knew from experience. It all looked the same from where Charlie stood, snow smoothly covering the grass and the dock and the lake, but if Todd went another few inches, he'd go through.

Charlie was a strong swimmer, though, and he knew he could make the sprint down the hill fast enough, even in the snow.

He wouldn't need to, he could see. Todd wasn't going anywhere. He'd been still a long time, lost all his momentum, and Charlie couldn't feel his fingers anymore, though he could feel Knox's fingers, digging into his arm. Charlie turned away. "Come on," he said quietly, "let's go. He'll come back when he wants."

That was when he realized Knox didn't mean to still be standing there, clutching at his arm. Knox was gone somewhere, staring blindly toward the horizon. Charlie tugged his hand loose and steered him back toward the dorm, and Knox went quietly where he was lead, dark staring eyes turned down toward the snow.

He got Knox put away in his room, and then slipped through his own door. Cameron was sitting at his desk, doing whatever the hell Cameron thought he needed to do at a moment like this. Charlie hung up his coat, and went and sat down on his bed. He stared out the window a while, but it was the wrong direction to see the lake.

Better that way. Todd deserved a few minutes with nobody looking at him. Privacy. That was the way Hellton and everyplace like it was designed, no privacy. Nobody was ever alone, that's why they crammed you into a room hardly bigger than a breadbox with another guy, marched you everywhere together and watched you every second, so you'd never, ever have one second to be alone. He listened to Cameron turning pages, dipping tapping scratching away with his pen. Charlie wondered idly what the _fuck_ he was doing over there that was so important. Tap tap tap, and he set the pen down and closed the book, and then he came over by the beds, turned back his covers, and started stripping the sheets. Didn't say anything, just stripped the sheets.

Right. Saturday morning, fresh linens came in the afternoon, and they'd been taught since first year to strip the beds themselves and bundle up the sheets. Saved certain kinds of embarrassment, sometimes, and then it was habit.

Charlie stood up, when Cameron had folded his blanket and tossed it down on the bed beside his sheet-stuffed pillowcase and his bare pillow, and began stripping his own bed. That was one handy thing about never being alone. Roommates made you remember things.

He pulled his own blanket back, folded it, tossed it at the foot of the bed. He heard the door across the hall open and close, but didn't register the sound until he'd pulled the sheets free and bundled them up, yanked the pillow from its case and jammed the sheets inside. He was standing by his bed, staring at the bare mattress when he finally realized.

The door across the hall had opened and closed.

Todd didn't have a roommate anymore.

Charlie turned quickly, pushing past Cameron, ignoring whatever stupid thing he said. He opened and closed one door, two strides, opened another and closed it behind him.

Todd's bed was stripped, just like all the other beds in this hall, every ordinary Saturday of term, and Todd was on his knees by Neil's bed. He'd gotten as far as pulling the top sheet free, and now he was just huddled there, one hand fisted in the pillowcase, one in the sheet, his head down on the mattress.

Charlie stood a moment, catching his breath, and noticed the window was open, snow scattered across the sill, and Todd was shivering. He walked across the room, and pulled the window shut, and noticed as he did that he was shivering himself, his hands shaky on the cold metal of the window handles. He rubbed his hands together, frozen for a moment, trying to look away in the tiny space, but there was no where else to look. He took a deep breath and then went and knelt down next to Todd, like they were saying their prayers together. Todd hunched his shoulders, turned his face away, further into the mattress, but Charlie was starting to think maybe one thing was right about this place. Maybe you weren't supposed to be alone.

Say something, say something. Even if the answer was a buzzer and "No, Mr. Dalton, thank you for playing," something was better than nothing. Though when he thought about it for half a sec, the thing was pretty obvious anyway.

He leaned across Neil's bed, close to Todd but not touching, looking at the back of his head. He was breathing where Todd was breathing, now, and smelling what Todd could smell: Neil. One last time.

"Hey," he said. "Todd, look, I know."

Todd shook his head into the mattress.

That little head shake clinched it, somehow. He was right. He knew he was right. "No, I _do_ know, Todd. Nu--" He had to swallow the lump in his throat, but pushed on. "Nuwanda sees all, knows all. You had a pash for him."

That got a response. Todd pushed up on his elbows, glared at Charlie from puffy bloodshot eyes, eyelashes spiky with wetness, his face crumpled with something that wanted to be anger, but he didn't even try to say _no_.

Charlie nodded slowly. "It's your first year living away, isn't it? You were a day boy at your old school. Baby of the family, couldn't let you go, right? So it's your first year, and everybody has a pash their first year, and it's always worse if you're rooming with him. Especially if it's, I don't know." He looked around ostentatiously, at the bed, the desk, the wall, bracing himself to say it. "Neil."

Todd flinched at the name, but then he seemed to hear what Charlie was saying. "You know," he whispered, his voice cracking like a first-year's.

"Yeah," he said, willing Todd to understand. "I _know_."

Todd's eyes widened. "You--you roomed with him."

"First year," Charlie confirmed, nodding.

Todd rubbed the back of one hand across his eyes without letting go of the sheet, then lowered it. "Did you..."

"Yeah," he said, and he felt himself blushing at the memory, but better that than the prickle behind his eyes. "Neil figured it out."

Todd's mouth crinkled, and his eyes squinched up again. "How?"

Charlie blushed harder, and couldn't help smiling a little. "It was kind of obvious when I crawled into his bed the last night before Christmas break."

Todd's mouth opened wide, and a sound barked out, like a laugh or a sob, or sort of a choking cough. He clapped one hand frantically over his mouth, but he went on laughing--it had to be laughter, because he couldn't be sobbing, not here like this. Charlie set one hand over Todd's, over his mouth, and, remembering Keating, set the other on the back of Todd's neck, keeping him steady. Todd's free hand caught his wrist, held it there, and Charlie watched as he closed his eyes and breathed, winding himself down to silence.

They stared at each other over their hands on Todd's mouth, and then Charlie pulled his away, and Todd's with it, their fingers tangled together on the bed. Todd swallowed, and licked his lips, and said in a voice smaller and more broken than usual, "I never."

Charlie nodded. "I know."

He could see the question in Todd's eyes, but Charlie knew he wouldn't ask, not in words. So he wouldn't answer. Not in words, anyway.

He pushed up off his knees, and tugged on Todd's hand. "Come on," he said, crawling onto Neil's bed, lying down on his side with his back to the wall as Todd, still on his knees, stared. He pulled again, harder. "C'mere, Toddler, won't hurt a bit, I promise."

Todd bit his lip, and then crawled up onto the bed, leaving as much space as he could--about three inches--between them.

Charlie dropped the hand sweating in his--God, it was exactly the same, even forgetting that his head rested on a pillow that smelled like Neil with every too-quick breath he took--and slipped his hand over Todd's side, onto his back, pulling them together. Todd gasped a little, but didn't move, and they were pressed together, just two thin layers of flannel pajamas separating them.

Not much to feel, thanks to nerves and lingering chill, except the warmth of another body, touching. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so close to anyone else, except for Neil, and that had been years. Todd was watching him, wide-eyed, frozen, like he expected Charlie to know what they were doing here.

It had been dark, last time, and there had been a certain amount of laughing and shoving at each other under the blankets, and then...

Charlie scooted down a little, tilted his head until his lips were up against Todd's, because this he remembered, this was good and could get you through a long cold night.

"Shh," he whispered, breathing against Todd's lips, and when Todd opened them to answer, Charlie pressed closer, licking into the warmth of his mouth. Todd was frozen for a second, and then answered back, clumsy and fierce. His hand slid into Charlie's hair, and clenched, too hard, but it was better than hanging onto sheets and gave his eyes a reason to tear up, so Charlie didn't mind. He pulled back a little, gentling the kiss, brushing his lips across Todd's, hushing him on every breath. He found salt on Todd's mouth whenever he tasted, and closed his eyes so he wouldn't see.

"Shh," he said again, as Todd's hand relaxed, and he leaned against Charlie, feeling heavy the way people did when they'd passed out. Dead weight, that was the word, but Todd was warm, his back a little damp under Charlie's hand, rising and falling with his slowing breath. Almost asleep, and that was just the same, too. He moved his mouth to Todd's hair, near his ear, barely whispering so he wouldn't jolt him back from sleep when he said what he had to say. "You're not the only one left, y'know. I'm here, too."

Todd nodded a little, and Charlie cracked one eye and peeked through his lashes, to see him drifting off, his eyelashes fluttering and then falling still. He squirmed one foot under the blanket and kicked it up, managing to cover them both without disturbing Todd. You had to stay warm how you could, in a place like this, so it was a good thing you were never alone.


End file.
